


Immortal Invisible

by Wildphoenix_ofthe80s



Series: What if this Storm Ends? [11]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Boredom, Crying babies, Exiled Celestial, First Time Parent Worries, First Words, Gen, Hospital Visit, Hyperemesis, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Leaving Home, Life Drawing, Morning Sickness, Night feeds, Old Wives Tales, One instance of mild transphobia which is immediately apologised for, Parenteral distress, Post-Break Up, Pregnancy, Rainbow Baby, Sick Child, Socially distanced new years celebrations, Teething, Toddler in pain, being beaten up, biting the dad that feeds you, can we cope?, giving alcohol to a baby), living doll, mild horror if you hate dolls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27762565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildphoenix_ofthe80s/pseuds/Wildphoenix_ofthe80s
Summary: A collection of shorts taking place in the "What if this storm ends" universe, Chapter 1 sets out what each chapter is about. Tags will be updated as new shorts are added.SPOILERS may exist if you haven't read the whole series yet... no major spoilers will be posted before the appropriate reveals in fic though.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: What if this Storm Ends? [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1531430
Comments: 20
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**A stroke of luck -** Set after My Best friend but pretty much spoiler free (Thats good given I'm posting this before MBF isnt it?), Gabriel is... really really bored on Earth. A chance meeting might inspire something in the disgraced Celestial though. (Tags : life drawing, boredom, exiled celestial)

**Christmas lights -** Aziraphale and Crowley trying to parent noisy and not so noisy babies at this festive time of year. Set about 5-6 months after SEN. (Tags : crying babies, night feeds, first words, first time parent worries) 

**She -** A little gift for Daddy to be backfires... Set during SEN, between Gabe and Beez's visit and the Ineffable partners moving into their South Downs cottage (Tags : biting the dad that feeds you, living doll, Ineffable idiots, First time parent worries, can we cope?, mild horror if you hate dolls, pregnancy) 

**Ideas are like stars** \- Set during SEN, shortly before the move to the South Downs. A familiar but first time visitor to the bookshop is in need of an ear and a distraction. (Tags : Post break up, One instance of mild transphobia which is immediately apologised for, leaving home, pregnancy)

**Colour Spectrum** \- Set towards the end of Firework. All babies get sick sometimes, and celestial babies are no exception, but when its your rainbow baby who's poorly for the first time..? (Tags : sick child, parental distress, rainbow baby)

**Up all night** \- Set between Tell God she's and Drift Away. It's all fun and games until your already naughty baby son starts teething and keeps everybody awake! Or Crowley does damage control by telling the girls wild stories about their father (Tags : Teething, toddler in pain, being beaten up, old wives tales, giving alcohol to a baby)

**Home** \- A little trip out for the Ineffables, to see a little old place with a lot of potential. Set during SEN (Tags : pregnancy) 

**Seeing You** \- Set during the second half of My best friend, Anathema's other idea to help Crowley. (Tags : pregnancy, morning sickness, hyperemesis, hospital visit)

**Claws and Scales** \- Coming Soon

**What's going on?** \- Coming soon


	2. A stroke of luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags : life drawing, boredom, exiled celestial  
> The song "A stroke of luck" is by Garbage

Gabriel was bored. He was bored of the gym. He was bored of his flat. He was bored of humans. Eternity with them was starting to look so dull compared to interacting with just a select few of these tiny-brained creatures, and completing paperwork on them of all things!

He wandered St James’ park, watched the ducks, wondered whether they were any more interesting, and found himself thinking of Aziraphale. _He_ found ways to distract himself - books, food, theatre, apparently sleep now - none of which interested him, infact some of which made him feel extremely ill.

And unlike Aziraphale, he had nobody to indulge or be indulged by. He almost craved the angels’ inane chatter and inability to stay still when being addressed.

He had moved on without much thought, and sighed as he paused by a doorway.

“Are you here for life drawing?” Asked a young – woman he thought - from the door. They had tight red curls above close cropped hair with shaved in patterns, and wore a baggy cropped top and tracksuit bottoms. Their tongue was pierced and they were obviously addressing him.

“Er, hadn't planned on it, no-” he managed.

“Oh, go on.” They smiled widely, “You weren’t in a hurry, so you haven’t anywhere to be, right?” At his silence they continued, “Please? I'll even supply you with paper and pencils. It's my friend Gloria’s idea, first session, but not many have turned up, I said I'm sure some folk must just be looking for the place.” They produced a pad and pencil case, pushing it into his arms, “Oh, and give her this.” They pushed a note into his hand, “Go on, please? Pretend you were looking for the place?”

Gabriel did as he was asked. He was bored, why not wile away an hour.

A couple more folk made their way in; he recognised the handiwork of Gloria’s friend. Speaking of, here they were, stepping lightly back into the room, “Think that's all of them!” They replied brightly.

“Thank you so much Ash, this is way more than I expected!” Gloria managed. ‘Ash’ grinned cattily, “Right. Down to business then.” They dropped their trousers and leant down to pull their top over their head, revealing a wide, banded sort of underwear Gabriel wasn’t entirely sure he’d seen before. This Ash hooked their fingers into, lifting it with a little more effort.

“Really, you sure?” Gloria worried.

“S’fine. They/Her, remember? Got to get these things out once in a while.” Ash assured her. That cleared that up then. They laid the elasticated garment on top of the untidy pile of clothes on the floor, “Keeping my knickers on though.”

They ran their fingers through what was left of their hair, “Urk. Not getting this done again, it’s itchy!”

“I did warn you.” Gloria replied fondly, “Class, this is Ash, they’re helping me out with this endeavour.”

“Think they’ve already met me.” Ash giggled, “So, how do you want me? Any preferences for a warm up?”

“Simple, please.” Asked a little old gentleman.

“I can do that.” Ash hopped up on a little pedestal and struck a wonder woman pose. Angular, sturdy, symmetrical, “5 or 10 minutes G?”

“5, and see how everybody feels from there?” Gloria checked. There were murmurs of agreement through the group.

Gabriel had never drawn before; Never seen the point of imperfect replicas of the human form. But… Yes, he was mind-numbingly bored.

The poses were simple enough to express with minimal lines. Gloria was enthusiastic, though maybe not as much as Ash was, and something about the model pushed him to keep going. Something peculiar, to be influencing the former Archangel. It was disconcerting to feel it but not know what it was. Just to know that making shapes, that going from angular lines to marking ovals for muscles and the ghosts of texture marks from the item of clothing he was to learn was called a binder, was making the time go extremely quickly.

At the end of the class, when the others were filing out, Grace chatting animatedly to the elderly gentleman and Ash tucking themselves back into the binder, he made to give them back the book. They smiled, “Did you enjoy it?”

“...Yes.” He surprised himself.

“Keep it. Same time next week?”

At this point he froze, noticing their eyes. A red head with mismatched eyes and he realised now he focussed on it, a green aura…

“You're-” He managed.

“Though if you're going to come next week I’d appreciate you paying her yourself.”

“You're Aziraphale’s – One of Aziraphale’s-”

“Oh, you know Daddy?” Ash beamed, “Small world!”

Gabriel held his chin a moment, covering his mouth. He remembered two small faces with mismatched eyes, a number of human years ago. He swallowed. This. Was. His. Work.

“Y - Yeah.” He nodded weakly.

“Anything you want me to tell him?”

“No.” Gabriel shook his head. He paused, “But he must be very proud of you. You're good to your friend, Ash.”

“Ariel, actually.” Their shoulders wiggled slightly, “Artist name. And thank you! Next week?”

He paused, the paralysing boredom beyond the door beckoning, “Yeah. Maybe.”


	3. Christmas lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags : crying babies, night feeds, first words, first time parent worries
> 
> The song "Christmas lights" is by Coldplay

Crowley moaned at the disturbance, “Oh, Above and below, these 3am feeds can go hang.”

Aziraphale murmured his agreement, but was intent on keeping his eyes closed until the second twin started crying. Until then, Crowley was on his own. He squinted as he lifted the noisy one, “You again, Alice? You're as bad as your father for eating.”

He patted her back as she rested against his chest on the trip downstairs.

“Then again, you have an excuse, you're growing. And bloody fast at that.” he considered, “At least you'll hopefully be old enough to feed yourself and sleep through the night at some point.”

As he stepped onto the tiled hall floor, as if on cue, Ariel began to cry upstairs. Crowley made his way to the kitchen, took 2 bottles out the fridge, and turned the kettle on.

“You're ridiculously adorable, but I can't wait for you to grow a bit more. Only good bit about you being this small is you can't talk back yet. Bet you’ll do that soon enough. Gotta get my fill of being grateful for that.”

Aziraphale joined him in the kitchen presently, Ariel in his arms.

“They time it well.” He yawned.

“Pair of little monsters, that's what we've made.” Crowley grumbled, “Disrupting decent – well, semi-decent- celestials sleep.”

“Decent…” Aziraphale chuckled. He stroked Ariel’s hair, which was starting to get thicker and curl a little. The girls had quietened now they could see their food wasn't far away, and Ariel had her mouth full of one of her little fists.

“Starting to get heavy on the baby scale, aren't they?” Crowley chuckled after another minute of waiting, at which point he filled the glass tumbler with hot water and stood the bottles in it. Normally he would perform a sneaky miracle to warm the milk immediately, but Aziraphale was against teaching the girls they could do anything and everything, so since they weren't screaming for food now they'd been picked up, he was doing it the human way.

“Growing too fast.” The angel sighed.

“Hey, the sooner they sleep through the better.”

“I know.” Aziraphale sighed, “But I just was enjoying being able to have children so much. It reminds me one day they'll be independent. How do humans cope?”

“We won't be awful parents, Angel. They'll come and visit.” He moved to stand by the angel, free arm wrapping around his shoulder, “Short a time as it is, we will make the most of it. We have to.'

Aziraphale rested his head against Crowley’s shoulder. Alice gazed up at her parents at that point, her mismatched eyes focussing in the dark. Then she smiled, “Da-da.”

The angel uttered a little squeal of shock, “Crowley,she-!”

“I heard!” Crowley beamed, letting go of Aziraphale to holding the baby up to nuzzle her cheek, Clever girl!”

Aziraphale was beaming too, but found his gaze dropping almost expectantly to Ariel. The girl gazed up at him, beamed, and hiccupped.

“That's alright little one.” the angel chuckled, “Take all the time you need.”

*

Alice had said ‘Dada’ at barely 5 months old, and they both knew this was early. But when a month passed and Ariel hadn't caught up, Aziraphale began to worry a little. Their first Christmas had passed, and Alice was making other sounds, though nothing tangible as yet beyond the title of both her parents.

“She'll be fine, Angel.” Crowley chuckled, “It's not like Li can say much, it's just with 2 dads she had more opportunity to learn that word.”

“But she doesn't say anything, Crowley. Not even the beginnings of words.” He fretted, “I hope being early didn't harm her.”

Ariel smiled at him sweetly. Crowley snorted, “She's fine. She'll be fine. She’s every bit as responsive and bright.” He grinned, “Can’t wait to see her face at the fireworks.”

“It was a good idea of Adam's to ask Mr. Gibbons if he could use his big meadow. Everybody can stay apart, those who are staying in will see some fireworks from their window, and Miss Chand can sell hot food and – Oh Crowley we’re going to make sure the weather’s good aren’t we? It’s been so awful for them this year – they need something really lovely to hope for.”

“Course we are – that is if you’re feeling up to the task.”

“Always.”

“Anyway – the girls were my point, Angel – they’ll love it.”

“Are you sure? It’s going to be cold, and loud, and bright.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot.” The demon snorted, “C’mon Aziraphale, if it’s too much we can come back here. S’not far.”

“I suppose.” The angel sighed, a slice of bread and butter on its way to his mouth. A moment later there was a wail from upstairs. “Oh bother.”

*

It was a few days later when they walked out to the appointed field to bring in the New Year, masked (setting an example), wrapped up to the nines (Crowley didn’t want to get cold) and the girls were in their chest carriers, an extra shawl wrapped around each of their parents and tucked in around them to share the body heat.

The twins had been fed and were sleepy, so didn’t even wake when Crowley bought Aziraphale a hot cup of soup from Miss Chand’s little tent. They snoozed until the fireworks, when they both woke up and started, enamoured at the lights.

Crowley nudged Aziraphale, and the angel chuckled, “This was a good idea. We'll have to get some in for the garden next year.”

“Just a few.” The demon replied, “You’ll scare the chickens.”

The display went on for 15 minutes, the sky clear and the fireworks spaced evenly to make them last. As it finished, there was a silence before the cheers started. In that one quiet moment Ariel, bundled up on Aziraphale’s chest, murmured, “Da, oooh.”

Aziraphale squeaked in shock. Crowley chuckled, “Told you. Girl loves her lights.”

“And where, pray tell, do you think she got that from?” Aziraphale snorted, arms wrapped around the girl as he wiggled for joy.


	4. She

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags : biting the dad that feeds you, living doll, Ineffable idiots, First time parent worries, can we cope?, mild horror if you hate dolls, pregnancy
> 
> The song "She" is from Silent Hill, by the Konami Kuheika Club.

Crowley sauntered into the bookshop out of the rain, glancing around him suspiciously. He pulled the parcel out of his jacket, placed it gently on Aziraphale’s chair in the back and clicked the doors locked again.

“’Ziraphale?”

He wasn’t in the back, anyway, so the demon clambered upstairs. He wasn’t too worried – since Gabriel and Beelzebub had been well and truly seen to by the Angel’s divine mark, he had felt light hearted in a way he hadn’t for years. Plus he had a suspicion where the Angel might be. He found the door in between the bookcases, and it opened for him.

Aziraphale was a comfortable looking shape under the blankets, lightly snoring. Unfortunately he was also spread eagled enough that Crowley had no chance of climbing in with him. He snorted, “Fine, I’m going to the sofa, you daft hedonist. You’ll have to shove up when we move though.”

Aziraphale grunted in his sleep, a little snort of amusement? The demon didn’t know if the Angel truly ever turned off his brain like he himself would in sleep.

*

Crowley was roused from his nap at the sound of crying, followed by the distinctly unangelic yelp of Aziraphale as he dropped his present in shock.

“Oh hey, you found it then!” the demon beamed. Aziraphale flapped his hands until he composed himself, “Just exactly what did I find? What foul possessed creation darkens my door with its infernal powers?!”

Crowley chuckled, “Oh no, it’s not one of ours. Humans thought it up all by themselves. Quite proud of them really.”

Crowley being proud did nothing to calm Aziraphale's fears, so he let the demon keep talking.

“Its to help new parents practise, y' see. Get used to the noises, if not the smells.”

Aziraphale looked at the slightly rumpled package on the floor, which continued to cry rather robotically.

“Don't you think it's a little on the uh, small side?” He pondered, patting absently at his under strain shirt.

“Nah, gotta allow for variation after all”

“Crowley, there's variation and there's a child's toy.”

“No way is that a child's toy, it was far too cheap!” The demon snorted, “You seen the price of dolls these days?”

Aziraphale finally bent to the parcel, tearing the paper off. The doll was soft bodied and weighted like a child might be, and he held it at arm’s length while it screamed.

“You gotta…” Crowley rolled his eyes, “C’mon, give it here.”

Aziraphale handed it over, holding it gingerly by the leg.

“Angel, you can’t have never held an infant before…” Crowley chided him, “You won’t hold ours like that will you?”

“That is not an Infant and you’re doing a particularly rotten job of convincing me otherwise.” Aziraphale replied.

“Good.” Crowley snorted, “Last thing we need is your expectations turning this bastard real.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes in disgust.

“Like this, see.” Crowley had propped the doll up in an arm, and it already seemed to be making quieter noises.

“I know how to hold a child, Dear.” The angel replied, “I just don’t want to hold – that.”

“C’mon Angel, just for a couple of days?”

Aziraphale huffed, “Well… You have to have it tonight.”

“Me? I’m the one sleeping on the sofa and woken by you dropping it!”

“You didn’t exactly ask about bringing the thing home…” Aziraphale replied tersely. He was looking away, arms wrapped around himself protectively and moving as if he had something to do. Crowley thought fast.

“Sure. I’ll look after it tonight…” He chuckled, “But you have to hold it at least for a few minutes now.”

“Crowley…” He pleaded, but the demon wasn’t taking no for an answer, “It’s small enough it’ll only take one arm, you can still drink your tea with it.”

The angel finally relented, untucking his shirt a little before he sat opposite.

“Well?” Crowley grinned at the angel’s stare.

“Well what? Are you going to make the tea while I indulge your whimsey?”

“If anybody’s whimsey is getting indulged angel, I will order take away and make the tea.”

Aziraphale looked down at the doll, “How long?”

“I’ll order now if you like-”

“No! I mean… how long do I have to hold it?”

“Angel…”

“It really is horrible.”

“It’s shut up though, you must be doing something right.”

Aziraphale considered, “It must be my natural grace.”

“You keep telling yourself that and you’ll will it real.” The demon snorted, “Don’t think that’ll work on a real baby though.” He stood, moving to the kitchen, “Whereas I’m already expecting the kettle to have boiled, and the teabag to be in the mug.”

*

The trouble with these things was that they were programmed for random outbursts. It barely amused the demon the first time it went off, when he was curled protectively around Aziraphale’s back, feeling him breathe and marvelling even now over how strange and wonderful it felt to hold the angel close.

He still thought it was funny until the 3rd time it woke them during the night. He clambered from bed with a barely audible hiss. Awakened too, Aziraphale was quiet until he grabbed it by the leg and threw it out the door.

“Crowley! You can’t do that to...” He checked himself, “I hope you won't do that with-”

“Hopefully ours won’t be made of weighted plastic.” The demon growled, returning to bed and pulling a pillow over his head. Aziraphale sat up carefully, and put the bedside lamp on.

“Crowley...” he managed.

“Mm?”

“Do you think we'll be able to do this?”

“Course. S'easy, humans learned how quickly enough and we've got all their knowledge to draw on.”

“I'm not sure.”

Crowley rolled to face him, removing the pillow, “We raised a kid before.”

“Yes, because he turned out so well.”

“He was fine. Just spoilt.” Crowley sat up and scratched his neck, “Angel?”

There was a sniffle, the angel’s head turned away from his partner, “I don’t mind staying up with them, I mean I never slept much before this...” he murmured, “But what if I can't cope? If I can’t figure out what they need? If they won’t stop crying? That infernal thing has only gone off thrice and you've already kicked it out.”

“It’s an inanimate object, Angel.”

“And this, whoever they are, won’t be.”

“And our reactions will be different for it.” Crowley replied, “Sorry I ever brought the thing home.”

*

Crowley had rolled over and wrapped his head in a pillow when Aziraphale didn’t reply. He wasn't sulking, just getting comfortable, he told himself.

Yet when he awoke, Aziraphale wasn’t by his side. He scrabbled out of bed hurriedly. There was no need to search for the angel though. He was sat at the top of the stairs with a blanket around his shoulders and the doll in his lap.

“’Ave you been there all night?”

“No, only since you went back to sleep.”

“Why not come back to bed?”

The angel looked down at the doll and quietly sighed, “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Why not the sofa? Anywhere more comfortable than the stairs anyway.”

“It, er… it cried every time I stood up.”

Crowley offered his arm. Aziraphale used it to heft himself up. The doll began it’s wail again. Aziraphale screwed his eyes up. Crowley grabbed it, pushing it into the crook of his arm and using his other hand to guide the angel back to bed.

“Get some rest, you.” He said, not unkindly. The angel was looking at the doll though.

“What?”

“It’s quiet.”

“Probably worn it’s batteries out after keeping you up all night.” The demon snorted.

“Well…” Aziraphale replied, kneading his fingers into his opposite palm, “I suppose it’s best to get these things out in the open before they arrive.”

“Maybe.” Crowley replied. He reached, placing a hand over the angels.

“Maybe we should talk about this later. You need your sleep.” He clicked and the baby sounds stopped.

“Where did you send it?”

“Locked box in the back room.”

*

Aziraphale made it downstairs in the mid morning.

“You can’t have had enough sleep.” Crowley frowned.

“Stomach’s growling.” The angel replied.

“Get settled, I’ll get you something.”

The angel settled himself in his chair, “Er, where did..?”

“Later.” Crowley replied, “First, tea.” 

Aziraphale waited a moment, nursing the question. Then he struggled back out of his chair, following Crowley to the kitchen, “Dear, I really-” He paused, wide eyed, at the sight that met him, “Oh, good lord!”

*

A few years later, Aziraphale was staring at the ceiling as his beloved demon hummed against his pregnant middle. It was a stupefying calm into which a perfectly reasonable thought appeared.

“Oh, Crowley! I just had a thought, about the girls when the new baby arrives."

“Oh yeah?” Crowley replied vaguely.

“Whatever happened to that training doll you got us, back in the bookshop?”

Crowley sat up, his face impassive as he replied with only a hint of menace, “You know precisely what happened to it.”

Aziraphale paused. His eyes widened, his face falling as a deeply buried image of a training doll with new blonde curls made itself known. Of it chomping on the back of one of the kitchen chairs with a mouth it didn't previously have. Of it clambering across the table specifically to bite Crowley-

“Oh. Oh yes, so I do. Sorry Crowley.”

“I’m not getting another one.”

“No. No dear. I wouldn’t want you to, after that… fiasco. Where did you send her in the end?”

“I think she’s gone to a travelling circus.”


	5. Ideas are like stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note tags on this story are : Post break up, One instance of mild transphobia which is immediately apologised for, leaving home, pregnancy
> 
> The song "Ideas are like stars" is by Mary Chapin Carpenter.

“Angel…” Crowley splayed his hands over Aziraphale’s waistcoat.

Aziraphale didn’t look up from his book. Despite it being business hours, the angel was lying happily enough on the lounger, head in a book, while Crowley lay lower down, paying rapt attention to his middle.

He was gazing at the fabric, the way the buttons were angled, the way one of them kept popping open.

“Angel...” he repeated.

“Mm?”

The demon rubbed his thumbs over the fabric, and glanced up at his partner. Aziraphale looked pointedly up from his book. A moment later he jumped, “Crowley no!”

“You'll damage it.”

“But...” the pleading face failed to fix it.

“You would have been upset if you ripped it.” Crowley replied, doing up the popped button again and smoothing the buttons out with their extra space. Aziraphale put his book down, flapping ineffectually, “Crowley, I don’t- please don’t-”

“You’re such an old fuss.” Crowley complained as he was shooed off from the comfortable position, and patted his partner’s middle, “You need to choose what’s important – keeping it the same or keeping it full stop.”

“I am quite aware of the choice, Crowley!” Aziraphale had managed to right himself now, “But it was not your choice to make!”

The bell above the door tinkled as the pair stood facing off, Aziraphale huffing while Crowley was resolutely silent.

“Put it back this instant.” The angel demanded.

“Nope.”

“Crowley!”

“Er, hello?” Came a voice, “Is… Is there anybody that can help me, please?”

Aziraphale broke eye contact, and brushed past the demon on his way to the front. Crowley let him. Even brushing past him in anger was more contact than he used to get, after all. And Aziraphale would come around.

“C-Crowley…”

(He didn’t think it would be THAT soon!)

“Angel..?”

The demon went cold at the sight of the woman standing in the bookshop, peering around a shelf with her back to them. He stood next to Aziraphale and hissed, “What'sss sshe doing here?”

“Looking for books?” Aziraphale muttered.

“Why here, she doesn't live here.”

“I run a very good bookshop?”

“Sure, like Warlock wants 16th century poets or French philosophy. No, this is a thing. I bet Anathema has a card for it.”

“There's a card for everything dear, if you choose to interpret them so.” Aziraphale replied, and ducked around the till, “Pardon me, my dear, did you call?”

“Oh!” Harriet Dowling spun, “Sorry, do you work here?”

“Yes my dear, what can I help you with?”

Crowley gazed across the shop at her. Her eyes moved briefly to him as Aziraphale moved around the desk full of books between them. Then her eyes moved to the angel. And down. Crowley was glad he’d miracled that waistcoat now, it looked more like his partner was meant to be that size, not that he was carrying a half demonic wriggling spawn in his corporeal shell.

Just the fact that she’d looked had set off his protective senses though, and he followed Aziraphale out.

“Oh? I didn’t know you had another customer.” Harriet said, eyeing Crowley perhaps a little closer than she should have.

“Customer? Ah, no my dear, this is my partner.” Aziraphale beamed.

“Pleasure I’m sure.” Crowley replied. Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably on his already sometimes puffy feet, and the demon sighed, “Where’s your chair Angel?”

“Crowley, I’m not going to sit while I’m serving.” The angel replied tersley.

“You’re going to sit down, you know what your feet have been like.” The demon shot back. Aziraphale gritted his teeth.

“Please don’t argue on my account, I don’t mind if you sit down.” Harriet managed, “If I’m honest I’m not even sure if you can help me. I just – I was passing and.” She attempted to gesture around her, but words had failed her, “And…”

Crowley returned with a chair. Aziraphale’s face had fallen watching Harriet though, and he nodded Crowley to offer it her, “Are you alright, My dear?”

Crowley could feel it now. Waves of sadness, or confusion, the sort you have after a break up and an hour crying in a public loo. He offered the woman the chair, trying not to think about a time not so long ago where he would have lilted something gentle but targetted at the woman’s husband and taken her in his arms.

“I do apologise. I had better go, I’m not in the right state to be…”

Crowley reached out despite himself, “It’s no trouble. Angel, you got any of that coffee left?”

“I’m sure I can find some, Dear. I’ll make us all one, would you mind just flipping the sign? I don’t think this dear lady needs anybody coming in while she’s upset.”

*

A mug of coffee, a few chocolate biscuits and an offered box of tissues later, the woman had composed herself again, “I’m so sorry. I don’t make a habit of this, I promise.”

“It’s alright.” Aziraphale smiled, “Anything we can do to help?”

“I don’t think anybody can do anything to help. I’ve done all I can.” She murmured, sipping the last of her coffee. Her eyes fell once again to the Angel’s middle.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but are you-”

“The owner? Y-yes I am.”

Harriet blushed, “N-no, I mean... expecting?”

Crowley couldn’t help but bristle, “He cant help it y’know, why do people have to keep drawing attention to a sensitive subject-”

“Shh, Crowley.” Aziraphale stroked his hair where he had insisted he was fine on the floor beside him, rather than hefting out another chair.

Harriet chuckled, “You're literally holding onto his lap with your head pressed against his – I’m sorry, it is his, isn’t it? - stomach. Thats why i wondered.”

“It is.” Aziraphale nodded, “Please don’t mind him, my dear. He is very protective, this wasn't exactly something we ever dared to dream of happening.”

“I bet.” She clasped her hand to her mouth, “Sorry, so sorry, that was rude. Erm, well, congratulations?”

“Thank you.” The angel replied as he finished his coffee, “But are you alright Miss-? You seem a little flustered.”

“Harriet, please.” She put her mug down on the floor and sighed, dropping her eyes, “I left my husband. Last week.”

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand very tightly. The Angel patted the mesh of fingers with his free hand.

“Trial separation, as far as he’s concerned.” She continued, “But I came to London to sell some stuff he'll never miss but i can't stand the sight of. Was just wondering whether to get my son something to cheer him up. I'm not sure - i mean everything seems too old here to be worth giving him - hes 11, though he's very reverant with books-”

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley, silently questioning with his eyes. The demon looked away.

“-but I'm just - I felt drawn here – whether just for the books or because – I don’t know – I suppose the feel of the place… Don't suppose you have a childrens or teenage section do you?”

“Let me show you, my dear.” Aziraphale soothed, “Its small but we'll do our best. Follow me please, if you’re finished with your drink.”

“Oh its no trouble!” Harriet started as Aziraphale made his way towards the spiral staircase, “I-I didn't realise you'd have to be up and down the stairs-”

“No trouble at all! Please come up, I'm sure i put Adam's selection up here-” the angel was already halfway up the stairs, eager to help.

“Adam?” The woman asked. Crowley stood from the floor in one smooth motion, “Friend of the familys kid, always on about something or other. Go on, he'll keep talking whether you go after him or not.” He chuckled. As Harriet started up the spiral staircase to the upper floor, he clicked to make sure the door didn't allow any more visitors until she was ready to leave.

Aziraphale was waiting for her at the top, pointing out the appropriate bookcase.

“It’s a beautiful shop.” Harriet was saying as she leafed gently through some of the less rare children’s books.

“Been in the family a long time.” Aziraphale chuckled, “Though the plants are all Crowley’s.”

Harriet glanced up briefly. There were plants in the windows, of course, and a pot of a beautiful, varigated Ivy suspended between the columns just slightly above their level, leaves knotting together as they cascaded down in the light.

“Huh. I wondered actually, if you had relatives in Horticulture.”

“Not that I know to.” He smiled, “As far as I know, I’m the last… at least I was.” His smile became indulgant and loving. He was gazing over the barrier at Crowley below them, leaning on the shelves and playing on his phone.

A little pang of sadness bloomed in the woman’s heart, “I have one for Warlock… but I'm not sure theres a book that will help me.”

“My good woman!” Aziraphale reacted immediately, snapped from his warm feeling by the little spike of sadness he felt, “There are books for absolutely everything and plenty more beside. Whether I have something your particular predicament, I can’t tell you, but perhaps a distraction?” He ducked around another bookcase, returning with a small pile of slightly more modern books.

“For example, strong heroines, with no need of men…” He shuffled a few books into his other hand, “Heroines who seek solace in women…”

Harriet made a little squeak at that. She covered her mouth again, biting her lip. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, “I’m sure you can tell we don’t judge here, dear.” He slid a couple more books into his other hand, “Here, try this one.”

She relieved him of the top book. It was from the 80s, the cover clad in garish colours and leathers, the girl at the front a slender, angular redhead.

“Mr. Fell, I’m not sure I can…” She blushed.

“Now that’s a shame.” He replied, “Because your face lit up at that cover.”

“What actually is it about?” She managed, biting her lip.

“Is that lesbian motorbikers from Mars?” Called Crowley.

“Yes dear.” Aziraphale chuckled.

“I don’t know…” She managed, “Suppose Thaddeus and his cohorts visit? I would prefer Warlock to stay with me…”

“My dear Harriet.” Aziraphale chuckled, finally putting the stack down (for which she was quite glad, it looked heavy), “This book was underground and illicit when it was published. Back bedroom published. For it to have survived this long, people had to find ways to hide it. Thirty years this book has been hiding. I’m sure a smart woman like you can find a way to keep that theme going.”

“How much?” She asked.

Aziraphale looked over the 2 books, “As you’ve had such a hard time already this month… I will charge you for little Warlock’s book only.”

“Oh no, really I can’t-”

“And I’m pushing a book into your hands.” He chuckled, “If you don’t like it, post it back. But I won’t hear of charging you for it.”

“Oh…” She dropped her head, “But you’ve already been so kind.”

“Not at all.” He chuckled, “Can we help you with anything else today?”

“I would love to stay and browse.” She sighed, “But I only have a babysitter until 5, I should pay and head for the station.” She made for the stairs. Crowley was waiting at the till, “Just Warlocks, got it.”

“You’ve both been very kind.” She told him as she passed the money over, “I wish you the best of luck with the baby.”

“Oh, we’ll both be happy so long as it’s not a screaming demon.” Crowley chuckled, only half joking. She gazed at him uncertainly for a moment.

“Joke.” He said.

“You were just so familiar for a moment.” She replied, “Sorry, just my imagination.”

“Safe journey home.” Aziraphale told her as she tucked her purchases into a bag.

“Thank you both again, so much.” She managed.

Aziraphale glanced to Crowley as the door closed behind the woman, “What was that about?”

The demon blinked at him, “Nuh.”

Aziraphale paused a moment, “Are we supposed to - to fog her memory afterward?”

“What are you asking me for?” He managed.

“Well, you do seem to be a little shaken that she might remember her son’s Nanny.”

Crowley removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling slowly, “Fancy early tea, Angel? My treat.”

“I think I could manage that, yes.” He replied, “Now, you won’t get playing with my coat, will you?”

“Can’t promise anything.” The demon replied, checking his nails with a grin, “Can’t promise I didn’t already.”

“Crowley!”

*

The packing to move was well underway a few weeks later. Aziraphale moved from one empty bookcase to the next, checking every corner, snapping every pocket universe to the new house for later organisation. He leaned against one of the pillars, brow crinkling as he gazed upwards, taking in the familiar view, trying to cement it into his long, but not entirely unfaltering memory.

His hands found his middle, stroking it gently, reminding himself this was for the future, and his past here was finally coming to a close.

“Mr. Fell still here?” Came a call as the door bell tinkled.

“Just about.” He managed.

“Parcel.” The postman said, “I’ll just leave it on this pile here.”

“Thank you, I’ll be over in a few.” Aziraphale replied numbly.

“Might want to get a forwarding service in place, if you’re still going to be receiving post here.” The postman mumbled before he left.

Aziraphale waited for the door to shut before sliding slowly down the column, coming to rest in a heap on the ground. His soft, comfortable, wonderful little home. Crowley had promised to find it tenants who would look after it, but just the enormity of what was happening was too much right now.

Crowley appeared in the doorway to the back with another box. He put it down gently, having expected a few of these reactions, and went back to the little kitchenette to boil the kettle.

“Here you go.” He murmured a miraculously short time later, “Have a break Angel.”

“So much time, Crowley.” The angel managed.

The demon moved to get his box, before he forgot where it went. As he put it on the pile he noticed the parcel, and brought it back to the Angel, collecting his own mug before sitting beside him.

Aziraphale turned it over and over, “I wonder who’s sending me parcels.”

“So long as it ain’t above or below.” The demon snorted, “Where’s it from?”

“…South downs.”

“Might be hellspawn. Open it up then.”

The angel opened it carefully, folding the flap of the envelope back one piece at a time.

“Angel, we’ll be here till you pop.”

“I’ve already packed my letter opener.” He retorted, flipping up the last piece, “What is…”

“Oooh.” Crowley chuckled, as the Angel unwrapped the packing from the item. It was a photo frame, the outside of which was made of plush and padded dark purple leather.

Crowley snorted as he looked at it. Aziraphale was confused. Then he noticed the note, held to the back by the stand. He tugged it loose and frowned at it.

“Harriet.” He murmured, “A thank you for the other week.” He wrinkled his nose, “How… charming.”

Crowley was chuckling, “Proper retro, this! Here Angel.” He whipped his phone out, angling it up to get them both in, “See, s’a family pic, got bump in it and everything.”

Aziraphale was amazed he’d managed to smile. He sipped his tea, “I suppose one should never turn down an impromptu housewarming gift.”

“'m putting this on the mantlepiece!” Crowley snorted. Aziraphale just shook his head and went back to his tea.

“Got you to smile though.” The demon prodded him. The angel took his hand, squeezing gently, and returned to gazing at the ceiling. Crowley joined him, just for a moment.

“Oh.” Aziraphale managed.

“What?”

“I must take the summoning circle off the floor when we’re ready to roll the rug up.”

“Yeah, you’d better take care of that one.” Crowley snorted, “Don’t want to explain to potential renters why there’s a portal to God’s answer machine in the front room.”

There was a pause.

“Crowley?”

“Mm?”

“South Downs. You don’t suppose Harriet stayed in Tadfield, do you?”


	6. Colour Spectrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags : sick child, parental distress, rainbow baby
> 
> The song "Colour spectrum" is by Coldplay

The trouble was of course, that the children weren’t born immortal. In some way this was better, for to have power enough to be essentially immortal a celestial child would also have to have the power to affect the world beyond their parent, and the potential to bring forth their wings. It also would have made growing up a little complicated. Although it didn’t quite explain why miracles wouldn’t get rid of illness when it befell them. Aziraphale had some choice words over the years about that one. Crowley tended more towards acceptance – he was well aware that not everything that She had decided, had to be fair.

Born in January, and swaddled close to his parents until spring, Frederick Orsino Fell-Crowley didn’t catch a cold in his first weeks of life. This was good for his parents, who having felt the loss of a child so hard for so many years, needed time with this one, more than anything.

He caught his first cold one Sunday in October, at 7 months old, and the first his parents knew about it was when he wouldn’t settle. He cried, he nursed, he cried some more, he refused his next feed. Aziraphale fretted as evening closed in and his temperature started to increase.

By the time the boy first sneezed, Crowley already had his suspicions.

“Goin’ to get something for him.” He told the angel as he headed out after tea.

“It’s Sunday.” Aziraphale managed, but his partner had already left. Freddie took that moment to throw up on his waistcoat, and the angel was lost in his fussing.

*

Crowley stared at the shelves. It had taken 40 minutes to find the nearest miraculously open petrol station with medicinal stock. He was stunned by the array of contradictory packaging and took a long, deep breath in order to quell the rising panic that he was going to let his son down. Why couldn't he have just used his powers! What's the difference between packets and bottles? Pills, Freddie couldn't take pills, but that one looked chewy? The boy had been trying solid food since he swiped roast carrots off Aziraphale’s plate some Sunday dinnertimes ago. Ergo, chewy… is good?

He choose chewy. Before he reached the till he had also collected gin, doughnuts, 3 flavours of chocolate bar for a pound and a little blue sports car that played 'Born to be wild'.

“Y’know this time on a Sunday I should be concerned you want alcohol and paracetamol.” The girl sat behind the desk said as she scanned the items.

“Yeah well.” The demon shrugged, “Didn’t actually want t’baby to be ill.”

She met his eye briefly, a little sympathy crossing her face. Then she glanced back to the chewy tablets, “You might want liquid if it’s for a baby.”

Ah, shit.

“How old?”

“Er… 7 months?”

“Yeah, liquid’s the only thing you’ll get down their neck.” The girl re-scanned the tablets to take them off, “Third shelf down, red box, should say ‘up to 12 months’ on it.”

The demon did as he was asked. Come to think of it, that did make more sense. There was a thermometer there too, which he added to the pile.

“That’s the one.” The girl beamed, “Your first?”

“First?”

“Baby?”

“Nuh.” Crowley shook his head, “But… been a long time.”

“Ah. Well, I hope they feel better for it. I’ve got one of the thermometers for my Abby, the instructions are really well laid out on that brand.” She paused to let him swipe his card, “I won’t say have a good evening, but hopefully a less stressed one.”

He managed some sort of gesture of thanks, he knew he did. But all he could think of was Freddie. He made it home in less than 20 minutes, finding Aziraphale crying almost as much as their son.

They broke out the paracetamol immediately.

“Should we um, try it first?” Crowley asked.

“We aren’t ill, Dear.” Aziraphale frowned at him.

“Got taste buds though.” The demon raised an eyebrow at him.

The taste test was closely followed by a couple of cups of gin for them.

“Worst attempt at Strawberry flavouring I have ever tasted.” Aziraphale spat.

“Sweet though. He’ll like it.” Crowley replied through a visceral expression of disgust, “Hey, Freddie?” He brandished the little oral syringe at him. The boy flailed and cried, but at least swallowed what the syringe contained when his father finally got it into his mouth. He ignored the car for now, which was a shame as during the trip in the Bentley the song appeared to have changed to ‘Princes of the Universe’.

“C’mon Angel.” Crowley murmured about 9pm, when the tears finally were replaced with moaning and fussing, “Let’s get him to bed.”

Aziraphale of course wouldn’t let Crowley actually put the boy to bed. At least not until the crib had been relocated to their bedroom. When the boy was in his crib, the side down so they could lie together under the blankets and watch him, the angel finally gave up the baby.

“We could be resting right now.” The demon managed, though it was the last thing he wanted to do while Freddie was poorly.

“Oh no Dear.” Aziraphale managed, meeting his eye, “I don’t think I could leave him like this.”

Their attention returned to Freddie. He was finally asleep, peaceful for the first time today, even if his little breaths were snotty and they were lying in the glow of the reading lamp at the other end of the bed, which made doing anything else (reading, watching loud and flashy videos on the phone) impossible right now.

They lay for an hour, a hand each locked together, watching their son and barely speaking. When Aziraphale’s stomach grumbled the demon finally remembered how little of his tea the angel had eaten for his fretting, and let go of his hand, “I’ll make some hot chocolate. We should sleep sometime, Angel. Especially if he’s going to cry all tomorrow too.”

Aziraphale sighed. When Crowley left, he crawled closer again. He didn’t want to upset the lad’s peace, but he needed to hold him again, rolling to rest the boy against his chest, kissing his forehead and stroking his red hair.

He began to sing. He had begun to sing regularly again when he was expecting Freddie, and it made him happy to think that the boy was used to it, that maybe it was comforting for him. And tonight, the tune he sang had never graced the pop charts, or the halls of churches or the fields of man. This song, this wordless, angelic note, every human knew but none had heard. It was deep in the core of his memory and spoke of grace and healing and of a better place.

Had he created it himself, or had he always known it? He was no longer able to tell.

He sang for so long, not even a tune or words he thought he knew anymore, that Crowley had returned before he knew it. He blushed as he sat up, but Crowley didn’t say a word, just passed him a bottle. Aziraphale stared at it before he realised Freddie was awake, and also staring at it.

“Aa.” The boy managed. Aziraphale creased with a sob, and moved to rest against the cushions so he could feed the boy. He ate with the gusto of one who had missed his tea entirely for crying.

When he had finished, he fell back into sleep. Crowley took him, offering his husband the miraculously still warm chocolate, and they watched him for a few moments more before he went back to the crib.

“The paracetamol helped.” The angel managed. His husband gazed at him with a small smile curling the side of his mouth.

“Good.” He replied.

“I will be glad when he grows out of this.” Aziraphale managed. Indeed, despite not being sure if their older children would be immortal, all three seemed remarkably resilient.

“I’m just happy they do.” Crowley replied with a sigh, “What a miserable life, being ill.”

*

Aziraphale and Crowley barely left their bedroom for days after that. Twice a day one of them bathed the boy to give him some comfort from his temperature, while the other made food and drink. Aziraphale let the baby nurse for comfort, although he was too hot to want to spend much time being coddled.

Crowley brought a few books upstairs, enough to distract Aziraphale on the second day. The angel was glad of it. Crowley by contrast had moved the TV upstairs and found music channels which he was flipping through periodically as themes started and ended.

“Used to be easier to do this.” He grumbled to his husband on the second evening, “Before MTV stopped being Music.”

“Surely that’s false advertising.” Aziraphale mused.

“It hangs by the barest of threads.” The demon replied, “Employing occasional musicians.”

“Musicians, he calls them.” Aziraphale snorted, and returned to his book.

Freddie’s fever finally broke after 3 days. After a fretful and extremely rough night, they finally awoke at 9am to find the boy had crawled from his crib (Where the side had still been down), and was bouncing happily between them on his behind, babbling to the music his toy car was playing.

“Frederick!” Aziraphale cried, overjoyed. Crowley paused as the angel scooped the baby up and cuddled him though.

“That’s not Queen.”

“Hm?”

“T’car. The music changed when it went in the Bentley.” He frowned, “And now it’s not…” he paused, “Why’s it Fleetwood bloody Mac now?!”

“Freddie caught his eye, beaming. He held the toy out for his dad. Crowley stared at it and pressed the top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think the car played?


	7. Up all night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags : Teething, toddler in pain, being beaten up, old wives tales, giving alcohol to a baby
> 
> The song "Up all night" is by Blink 182

Alexas had been an eye opener after the twins. The girls were generally sweet, even tempered, well behaved (Well, generally!) But Lex was another thing entirely, even as a baby.

His teething was particularly bad. The girls had been helped by cold teething rings, or one particularly bad night, Aziraphale had gone full on old wives tales and given them both Brandy. (Which had horrified Crowley)

“Who’s meant to be the demon here, Angel?”

“Crowley a little doesn’t harm them-”

“On their dummy! Not as a tiny baby sized shot!”

They were both, understandably, quiet that night. The morning after had convinced the Angel against doing it again though!

Alexas though… After days of rage and tears, Crowley was worn down by the boy's screaming and was near the end of his tether when he was woken again from his sleep. He sat up to go and see to him, almost seething at himself for being angry about this, but moments later he heard a quite unearthly song, angelic and beautiful. He got out of bed and moved to the en-suite, where Aziraphale had taken the baby to clean him up after his tantrum.

He didn’t think he had never heard Aziraphale sing, not ever, and he couldn't think why now, why the angel wouldn't show it off.

And either way, Lex had shut up!

*

That didn’t always work though. Every time Lex cut a new tooth, the household bedded down and prepared for a lack of sleep, a lack of calm, and for the exhausted celestials in charge of the household to occasionally do things like putting a shoe in the fridge, a phone in the oven or a remote control in the desk drawer.

One night the boy was insufferable. He cried from the moment he woke up until the moment he was put to bed, and every hour afterwards. Aziraphale walked up and down the extension hallway with him at 8pm, occasionally miracling the teething ring cool again. The boy was warm, irritable and there was no end of his screaming.

Crowley had moved downstairs by 9pm, and the twins came down to him, yawning, a bit later.

“Puck keeping you guys up too eh?” the demon chuckled, “Come on, huddle up, might get a nap in here.”

The girls didn’t need telling twice. They hopped under the thick black and red tartan blanket, cuddling up to their dad. Ariel stretched at length, exposing her middle and scratching idly at it.

“Put it away Ri, I don't wanna see that.” Alice teased.

“Got floof.” Ariel responded, picking at her bellybutton and flicking the result at her sister.

“Eu! What is the point of belly buttons they're so gross-”

“Is for c‘llecting fluff!”

Crowley snorted, “You pair sound just like your father...”

“Bet Daddy doesn’t like fluff either.” Alice told Ariel.

“Not really the fluff.” The demon chuckled, “Did you girls ever wonder why your father and I have bellybuttons? When we weren’t born but created?”

“Oh.” Ariel screwed up her eyes, “Yeah ‘cos you don’t need baby food!”

“Story, Dad.” Alice demanded.

“Story!” Ariel squeaked.

“Oh alright…” Crowley hoped this would at least let the girls sleep.

*

“It was one of the many dark ages of man - death and pain were rife, there was no education for Serfs and the ruler held all the cards. The principality Aziraphale had been helping everybody he could with the latest sickness that swept the land. Probably more than he should have been. He was exhausted. He should rest soon, but then there was the child in the street starting to go under, and he had to do something.

He made his way slowly back to his lodgings after working this last miracle. It seemed a very long way, much further than he recalled. He leaned on a wall as dizziness overcame him, and slid down it slowly to sit on the welcoming ground. Utterly exhausted. Without warning he crumpled sideways against a water trough.

He woke sometime later to murmuring. It was dark, and he was stripped, obviously whoever had found him believed he had fallen to sickness too. He had a spike of panic as he realised the murmurings were concerned.

“What is-” he sat up, but was still so tired he fell back onto his elbows. He had burned himself so hard to help and desperately needed to rest and regenerate his energy.

An elderly woman was suddenly in his face, chattering wildly. He couldn't quite understand what she was saying, but she was panicked. She pushed him back down, and he was too weak to push back.

Then there was another voice, “Witch, warlock, plague beast or fae, which are you?!””

-

Ariel squeaked, “Daddy!”

“Shh.” Alice told her, “Daddy’s fine, he’s upstairs with butthead.”

Crowley’s eyes crinkled a little with a grin as he continued.

-

““Ah, None of the above?” Aziraphale replied.

“You can't hide your form from us, you weren't born from humans!”

Well, you're not wrong, Aziraphale pondered.

The old woman jabbed a finger into his ribs and chattered more, holding a tiny wooden talisman of protection. Aziraphale chuckled despite himself as it brushed his ribs, always just a little ticklish.”

-

The twins chuckled at each other knowingly.

-

“The man, unamused, punched the Angel’s stomach, “You forget yourself, creature! Crawling about up here causing mischief! Thought you were so good at assuming a human form but you forgot one thing!”

Aziraphale let the pain settle before he replied, “I'm not any of your options.”

“A demon then!”

“Not if I can help it.”

Another punch, “I'll destroy you, bringing plague and despair to our home, don't you dare think about cursing my family-” He made to punch again, when Aziraphale involuntarily drew on his wings to protect himself.

The old woman was screaming. The man had fallen silent after a cry of shock.

Aziraphale paused. He wasn't meant to do that, but he supposed it had done the trick with minimal effort. He sat up weakly, glancing at the faces that stared at him – now at a distance. They were terrified. But despite their actions, they were good people to have taken him in when they thought he was sick.

“I forgive you.” He said simply, grabbed his tunic from the chair, and left, folding his wings away and clicking his fingers to make this just a dream for them both. He pulled his tunic on, and struggled back to his room to rest.”

-

“Daddy, when do we get to-”

“In a minute Ariel.”

“Shush!” murmured Alice, “I want to hear the story!”

-

“He awoke to a familiar figure looming over him, a red headed shadow with the brightest golden eyes.

“Crowley! Ah-” The angel was still in pain, “-What are you doing!?”

“You were giving off distress.” The demon replied, rolling his eyes, “Probably attracted everything in the region that likes it. Thankfully only I arrived.”

“Oh.”

“You alright?”

Aziraphale nodded, then went to sit up, “Oh!” He paused, pulling up his tunic to see the dark bruises there, “Oh dear.”

“Here, let me, you're still weak.”

Aziraphale sighed in relief as his bruises began to fade at the demon’s touch.

“What happened?”

“Somebody outed me. I was tired, I sat to rest and somebody took me in while I was sleeping. Suddenly they were screaming and I was getting punched. Something about not being born to humans.”

Crowley checked over his work and paused, “Did they see this?” He patted his middle.

“Yes?”

“Have you not seen any human torsos? What about in Rome? What about Cain?”

“Dear, I didn’t exactly go around looking at everybody.” Aziraphale stared at him, confused.

Crowley sighed, standing to pull up his own shirt, “Get one of these. Humans have them, they get them before they're born, it's where the cord goes in the infant, okay?”

Aziraphale studied it, touching it delicately. Crowley snorted at a poke, “Hey not too hard, they're not deep.”

“Seems a little useless, I mean all it does is catch sand.”

Crowley snorted again, “Are you doubting the Lords’ creation, Angel?”

Aziraphale glanced up at him suddenly, “Of course not!” He glanced back down, “Just... what is the point?”

“Not being outed by humans.” Crowley chuckled, “You have a go, if you're rested enough.”

-

Crowley gazed down at the girls. Ariel was still picking at the fuzzy bits on the blanket, but Alice was asleep. He smiled as the sleepy younger twin glanced up at him, “An’ Daddy made bellybutton?”

The demon heard the bedroom door upstairs close. It was quiet.

“It took your dad a day or so. Too deep and you can upset your insides. Too shallow and you get funny looks. But yes, eventually he got himself a bellybutton that was just right.”

“Like Goldilocks.” Ariel beamed, putting her head on his knee and nuzzling it.

“Just like Goldilocks.” He chuckled, “And we never mentioned it again, well, not unless I had to tease him.”

“Tease who?” Aziraphale asked as he entered the room, “Oh dear, I’m sorry girls, he is rather a menace.”

“Daddy, do you like picking fluff fr’m your bellybutton?” Ariel asked.

“What a strange question dear.” The angel replied, “They are what they are. And what they are is quite the dust trap.”

“Then you do.” She giggled.

“Well, maybe the relief of a clean belly button.” He replied, “Crowley what have you been telling them?”

“Nothing, Angel.” The demon snorted, hugging the awake twin, “Nothing at all.”

“Well, I’m not sure I believe that.” The angel replied, “But you should all be safe to go back to bed now. Alexas has a brand new canine tooth and he’s already quite aware of how to use it.”

“Bite you, did he?” Crowley asked as he swung his legs very slowly from the sofa, lifting Ariel while Aziraphale went to scoop up Alice. As he touched the blanket, it returned to its pale, familiar colour.

“As best he could through a mouth full of teething ring.” The angel deadpanned.

“He naughty.” Ariel said as she peered at her dad over Crowley’s shoulder on the way up the stairs, “Why’d you have such a naughty baby?”

“Because he’s in pain?” Aziraphale tried.

“Because he’s every bit as much a naughty boy as your father can be.” Crowley laughed.

“Both of us.” Aziraphale snarked. Then they paused at a sound from their bedroom.

“I can’t believe you woke him!” Aziraphale said.

“Back downstairs!” Ariel giggled.

“Yes, for us.” Aziraphale said, “I believe my dear, it’s your turn.” He turned on the stairs and began to descend, “Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the subversion, Crowley is the chef and reads the bedtime stories, Aziraphale is the singer...


	8. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags : pregnancy
> 
> The song "Home" is by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.

Crowley watched Aziraphale fondly. The angel was sitting on the sea wall, in the middle of January, licking an ice cream contentedly.

“Did you miracle the shop open?” The demon smirked.

“No, did you?”

Crowley wasn’t sure anymore. Since the ‘situation’ had happened, and She had blessed them, they had noted a strange sort of synchronicity between them. They had always been aware of each other, in a way, but this was new. Fewer big eyes from Aziraphale required; Crowley just knew sometimes now what to expect. Or perhaps he was just spoiling his angel.

Aziraphale swung his legs idly, “This was a lovely idea, Crowley.” He paused, munching on the wafer cone, “But I don’t understand why we had to come down here in January.” He waved at the demon, “It’s really not your thing, is it?”

Crowley was starting to wonder that himself. The angels’ warmth meant a simple coat kept him warm, but he was bundled up to the nines. He squeezed at his phone in his pocket, willing the shivers not to show, and he recalled why he’d dragged them out here in the middle of bloody winter. He pulled out his phone, struggling to unlock it with his gloves on, “Well, you need a holiday, people will start looking soon if I take you out with a baby belly and no coat to hide it, and...” He waved the phone at the angel, showing him a picture of a cottage, “Thought you might want to visit this house's open day.”

The Angel’s eyes widened, “Crowley?”

“We don’t have to.” He said quickly.

“But it might be sensible to. I understand.” The angel had been attached to their impossible child from the start. So had the demon, not that he was quite ready to admit it in words. Aziraphale had noticed though. That synchronicity again.

And the idea that they were to become parents was becoming more difficult to ignore as the days went on.

"Wait..." he frowned at the screen, "Eden cottage?"

"Why'd you think I looked in the first place?" The demon snorted.

*

They drove out to the open day for the afternoon session. The cottage was a little run down, but nothing a miracle and a little bit of personalisation wouldn’t fix. The weather worsening, they were the only people there for the afternoon viewing.

“Close to Tadfield.” Aziraphale chuckled, “Adam will be pleased.”

“So will I.” The demon replied, out of earshot of the human showing them around, not that showing was the word as they insisted on waiting near the door in case of other visitors, “Close to your midwife.”

“Oh yes.” The angel beamed, “Most important.”

The house was a standard cottage, but with extensions. A car sized driveway curved around a raised rockery and widened as it reached the house, leaving plenty of parking room. A carport to the right seemed a natural place to leave the Bentley. The door was dark with overgrown old clematis and roses.

They had stepped inside onto a beautiful old tile floor. A few loose, a few cracked, and dirty, but where furniture had been moved there were hints of the colour that lay beneath the muck. Blue, cream, brown and red tiles, reminiscent of the mosaics they were both once very familiar with, the house had potential.

The doorframe to the left as you walked in lead to a sitting room with a fireplace at the front of the house and two recessed windows with seats in. On the far wall was another window, overlooking the garden beyond the Bentley’s bonnet. Old bookcases lined the wall to their right and patches on the floor suggested room for two large sofas.

Aziraphale patted his chest gently with his fingertips. Crowley knew why. This room was a place of joy, the residual feelings still apparent.

The staircase was opposite the living room door, a U shape with a cupboard underneath and a boot cupboard behind the front door, but they continued to explore the ground floor for now.

The room next to the living room was a study. It had 2 large windows on one wall, looking out across a little patio to the far end of the garden. Looking out, there was an old oak in the back corner, the remains of a treehouse and a rope ladder swinging in the breeze.

“Oh.” Aziraphale beamed.

“Could make a nice collection of your favourites in here.” Crowley said, “Windows for a desk, but dark to protect those old books.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand and they carried on to the door at the end of the downstairs corridor. It was a modern day extension; A long kitchen with slightly dated doors, a pantry on the left and large French doors at the far end. This they made for, looking out to the little patio and garden beyond.

“Could put some nice planters out, heaters and a shade in this weather. Make it toasty.” The demon muttered.

“Can you imagine, having food out there in summer?” Aziraphale managed. The demon turned to look at him to find him welling up in happy tears.

“You alright?”

“It’s so very happy, and so loved.” His partner replied, “It feels like a very happy home.”

They went upstairs before they attempted the garden. The stair carpet had gone, but the banisters were carved and sturdy. The stairs lead onto a little landing, with a bedroom to the immediate right, a family bathroom opposite the stairs, an airing cupboard to the left of that, and the other bedroom left of that.

They started with the first bedroom. It was a beautiful little room with a window seat looking out over the garden. Aziraphale gazed around him, “It’s a very light room.”

“Kids room, innit.” Crowley moved to where the shadow of the furniture showed a clean patch – clean except for the crayon drawings.

“This feels nice.” The angel smiled, sitting briefly in the window seat, “It feels cosy.”

The bathroom wasn’t much to look at, but the other bedroom had an en-suite in the corner, next to the chimney breast which came up from the living room below.

“Needs a bit of cleaning up. That’s easy enough.” The demon noted.

“Mm.” Aziraphale agreed, “Shall we go and see the garden, dear?”

“Not really sure it’s best view in this light.” Crowley replied, “But yeah, fine.”

“I’m sure you’ll see all the potential dear.”

*

The angel had been right.

“Have to make a few changes, f’course, move the hedge across there.” Crowley waved his hand nonchalantly, and Aziraphale almost expected the garden to obey. He frowned.

“Why move the hedge?”

“The entrance needs to be there, Angel.”

“I… don't follow.”

“Not only is the road access that side but that-” he jabbed his finger needlessly dramatically, “Is East. Can’t have a guardian of an Eastern gate without an Eastern gate.”

Aziraphale began to laugh, “Crowley! That is ridiculous-”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed your compass circle.”

The angel was still chuckling. Then a thought hit him, “Just.. No topiary Crowley. We really don't need a tree forced to look like a sword. It will only be struck by lightning.”

“Not if She’s on our side, it won’t.” The demon snorted.

“Crowley!” But the angel was laughing with him still. The garden was beautiful, if dull in winter. High, strong brick walls were hidden by trees and bushes, and overgrown flowerbeds. The lawn went all around the house where there wasn’t flowerbeds or drive or patio, and there was plenty of space for toys and picnics.

The laughter died down as the enormity hit them both once again.

“We're going to have to talk about this though Angel, if we're going to live together.” Crowley said suddenly.

Aziraphale stiffened, “Oh?”

“Our habitats are opposite extremes.”

“Ah.” The angel started to twiddle his fingers uncertainly. Crowley covered them with his own hands, “Now. I was thinking the big back study, with a miraculous adjustment, would work for your books-”

A smile played at the edges of the angel’s mouth, but he was anticipating more words and trying to keep himself grounded.

“Some of your collections are going to have to be put away.” the demon told him.

Aziraphale nodded once, trying not to show in his eyes how he felt about that.

“I know, I know.” Crowley managed quickly, trying not to look at those eyes, “But. The place needs to be child friendly. After all, if there's to be kids-”

“Kids, Crowley?”

“Presumably you're not going a tell a child of ours they can't mingle with natives? No? Well they'll want to have friends around. And their parents may stop by to pick them up or just check the strange gay couple outside of the village are okay to look after their runts.”

Aziraphale nodded slowly in contemplation.

“Well, it won't do for them to fall over your books as they walk in, or find their kids snorting 150 year old snuff they found on the window ledge...”

“I suppose...” the angel agreed sadly.

“I suggest a pocket universe in the cupboard under the stairs.” Crowley nodded, “And there's already a pantry with a high shelf for the alcohol. Plenty of child locks for show and a couple of false walls to keep our own out.”

“Crowley, you really have thought of everything.” Aziraphale murmured admiringly, hugging him tight.

“Know my audience.” Was the reply, “Are we going to buy it?”

“It does seem almost too good to be true.” Aziraphale worried unconvincingly.

“Oh well, if that’s all you’re worried about, I'll be here to be your snake in the garden.”

The angel shook his head, but was smiling regardless. He moved his hands to hold Crowley’s, “I think I had better do the paperwork dear. I have a computer remember.”

“Yeah but my lot have all the Lawyers.” He paused, “Wait - that's a yes?”

The angel’s smile became indulgent, “Yes, Crowley. Welcome home.”


	9. Seeing you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing you is from the Groundhog day OST
> 
> Thank you FantasyTLOU for the inspiration! Wouldn't have happened without your comment some time ago 😍
> 
> Tags are pregnancy, morning sickness, hyperemesis, hospital visit

“Aziraphale.”  
“Yes my dear girl?” The angel looked up from his desk, “Do you think It’s helped?”  
“Do you? You’re here all the time, Aziraphale, I just show up once a week to check him over.”  
The angel’s expression fell a little, and he bit his lip.  
“Yes, if you want my opinion, it’s helped. Greatly. But listen.” Anathema said, flumping onto the beanbag her daughters once frequented whenever they were researching, “I’m going to make a suggestion, Aziraphale. And I’m not sure you or Crowley will like it but I’m thinking it’s for the best.”  
“Oh?”  
“I think Crowley should get an ultrasound.”  
Aziraphale gazed at her, working his way around what she had just said.  
“An Ultrasound? At a hospital?” She qualified, “And soon, I’d go private if you can. And see if some human antiemetics might help.”  
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Anathema dear.”  
“Aziraphale, if he can’t eat, they can’t grow. And he’s bad, he’s going to lose what body mass he has quickly, as we noted right at the start, even you two need to eat when you’re doing this.”  
“I – I don’t know.” The angel flustered, “I don’t even know if he has all the requisite organs right now!”  
“You can help, surely?” The occultist sighed, “You have your full powers still.”  
“I suppose.”  
“I’d sooner it came from you though. You can mention I’ve suggested it would be beneficial but it needs to come from you.”

*

“How are you, Dear?”  
“Mmph.”  
“Oh, that good.” The angel murmured, perching on his side of the bed behind his partner. The blanket was pulled down to his silk Pyjama bottoms, and he studied his husbands back dutifully. Anathema was right – he had long noticed the bony prominences, where previously his husband’s figure had been lean but healthy looking. He gently ran a thumb over the top of the Demon’s spine. Crowley groaned.  
“Dear, Anathema made a suggestion downstairs, and I would very much like you to consider it.”  
“Wh’ever sshe’sss got to ssay, ssshe can say to me. Sssshe knows that.”  
“I think she was a little worried how you’d react. Given how much we’ve avoided human involvement besides herself.”  
“No.” Crowley growled.  
“You haven’t even heard it yet.”  
“No. Don’ want poking ‘n prodding by humansss.”  
“Dear.” Aziraphale sighed, “Please listen. I can count your ribs. Well, the ones you’re currently sporting anyway.”  
“’M lanky.”  
“Not this lanky.”  
“Sss’fine.”  
“Dear, would you-” Aziraphale grabbed the edge of the blanket before Crowley could drag it over his head, “I’ve found somewhere. Small, local, quiet. Easy to cover our tracks. You just need – maybe to try something humans use to help. And she suggested we get you a- a scan.”  
“Urg, Angel…”  
“I know, I know.” The angel sighed, “I know. I would not have been comfortable. But they do things… to check the children are healthy. They measure them and have an average size chart they can check them against. You were worried about them, and I’m worried about all of you. I think it’s a good idea, and I’ll do my best to cover for you if there are any glaring omissions noticed.”  
“Ngk.”  
“And Crowley…” Aziraphale played with his fingers, “The Ultra-sound scan? You get to see them.”  
Crowley turned his head.  
“I-I would like very much to see this technological magic in action.” Aziraphale smiled.  
“You would.” Crowley snarked, but rolled painfully over, facing his husband, “You think we should?”  
“My dear, we’ve been so worried about you, but equally you’re so poorly it can’t hurt to check on them too. And – when you were talking the other day, about… well. about.” He paused and breathed a few times.  
“Spit it out, Angel.” The demon managed, patting his hand.  
“With Jennet. I’m not sure I c-could tell, at least not until…” He was quiet a moment.  
“Until..?” the demon pressed.  
“Until it actually happened, if it were going to.” The angel managed, “When we… lost her. If they can stop that happening, it’s worth it, isn’t it? T-To not stand idle and repeat history?”  
Crowley gazed to Aziraphale’s wringing hands, and reached back out to steady them a moment.  
“Phone, Angel.”  
His husband moved to comply, relieved when one hand remained on his while the other woke up the device and opened the internet. Crowley exhaled, “What’ss the name of this placsse?”

*

Despite his agreement, Crowley had been nervous when they arrived for the scan. He had improved a little, but was still weak enough to have needed to be pushed in in a wheelchair (He would have preferred for Aziraphale to carry him, but the staff were insistent things were done by the book) which left him feeling, even though they were together, that he was at risk. There was paperwork, which they were thankfully allowed to fill out in a private corner together, then he had been prodded and poked everywhere (Yes, even there), been given a prescription which they picked up while waiting for the scan, and now he was really feeling that all this was too much and he’d had enough. Aziraphale had pushed the wheelchair to opposite his own seat, and kept humming and rubbing his knuckles gently, hoping not to transfer any of his own fretting at involving this unknown factor.  
“Ziraphale-” Crowley said at length. Aziraphale glanced up at him, tilted sideways in his chair with a thin elbow propping him up and eyes closed as though he were an Edwardian lady who had drunk a little too much. He squeezed his partner’s other hand, “I have you, love.”  
“Don't let anybody hurt them.”  
Aziraphale swallowed, trying to remain impartial, “Why would they hurt them? They’re here to help.”  
Crowley’s face creased, and Aziraphale sat forward to let him bury his head in his shoulder. He recognised the signs of exhaustion and after all, his partner hadn’t left the house in weeks. He rubbed the demon’s thin shoulders and murmured, “I won't let them hurt them, but I don't think they're going to.”  
“First time, is it?” Called the nurse at the desk sympathetically, bringing a box of tissues to the nearby table.  
“Well, we have other children, but this is her first time, yes.” Aziraphale said diplomatically.  
“Quite understand.” The nurse smiled, “It’s only a scan, Mrs Fell-Crowley, perfectly harmless. Just a check on the little ones. Might even be able to print some pictures if they’re clear.”  
“Print pictures?” The woman had Crowley’s attention.  
“Oh yes!” She beamed, “You’re waiting on a 3-D scan, they’re usually very clear, you get some good pictures with them. They’ve come on a lot in the last few years.”  
Crowley switched off again to wait. 

*

“Goodness, we have been poorly haven't we?” The doctor asked as he read the notes. Crowley pulled his top over his head and snorted, “Nah, I just fancied an emergency appointment.”  
“Dear!” Aziraphale said pointedly, “Please…”  
Crowley pulled a sneery sneer. A really sneery sneer. His best.  
“She's normally a most sarcastic person, I must apologise.” Aziraphale hurried, “She’s been through a lot today too. We were both very worried.”  
The doctor was chuckling though, “Sir in 20 years of obs and gynae I've seen and heard much worse. If you make yourself comfortable on the bed Mrs Fell-Crowley.”  
Crowley did as asked, happy to finally get to lie down again and feel some of the nausea leave him. He'd already taken one of the tablets they’d given him, hopefully willed any missing organs into being, and taken on the appropriate form that meant the least questions would be asked. He twisted his arms around the back of the pillow and waited, gazing at his breasts and wondering if they were roughly the appropriate size for a pregnant woman. Aziraphale took the chair beside him, the Doctor turned off the overhead light and switched on the contraption.  
“Right, let’s get to this then, see if we can absolve any worries you may have. So, we're doing a general health check, looking to be sure its two, and before we start, should I be looking at the genders?”  
“Er-” Aziraphale glanced to Crowley.  
“Not worried if y’see or not.” Crowley managed, “Get on with it will ya?”  
“Dear...” Aziraphale looked mortified. The Doctor was just amused, and squirted the gel on. Crowley squeaked in surprise, fixing his glare on the human. Aziraphale chuckled and he pulled one hand from under the pillow to poke the angel’s tummy, “S'not funny.”  
“You will antagonise people, love.”  
“Here we go then, hold still.” The Doctor’s voice broke in.  
Crowley fell silent.  
Aziraphale grabbed the hand still on his middle, squeezing it. The Doctor had found one baby almost immediately, although they appeared to be facepalming.  
“Shy.” Aziraphale remembered.  
“Look at us you little...” Crowley hissed under his breath.  
The hand slipped up a little, revealing a little tilt of the mouth before they twitched and turned around.  
“Cheeky...” the Doctor snorted, “Let’s find the suspected other first and then get to the measurements.”  
It was a moment before he chuckled, “We do have another.”  
Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand. They had agreed in advance not to say they already knew for definite there were 2.  
Crowley hadn’t moved his view from the screen. This second baby they had a good view of the face on.  
“Your nose.” Crowley chuckled.  
The head jerked suddenly, facing the screen. Crowley hissed.  
“Whoa, You're a grumpy one.” The Doctor was saying. Aziraphale readied his fingers in case he had to cover up a guardian strength or winged baby, but the child had already turned away without further incident. The Doctor hadn’t noticed anything amiss with them. He hum’d and hah’d as he took measurements. The baby seemed most affronted by the attention, twitching and shifting as if they were being appropriately fed by their parent. Aziraphale glanced at Crowley to find his eyes full of tears and entirely snaked up, and was glad the room was darkened.  
Once the Doctor had measured the second one, “Small for dates, but not by much, and they’re very active, I don't think you have to worry too much.” He went back to the first, “Hello there, there’s your face!”  
This one was definitely a bit more angular.  
“Bit bigger than the other, nothing that I’d worry about at all though...” the Doctor paused, “If we had some twin to twin transfusion I’d expect the difference to be more marked, even this early.” He nodded to himself, “I’ll send the captures to the machine downstairs so you can pick what you want. They seem happy enough though. You’ve picked up your anti emetics?”  
They nodded, wowed into silence. Aziraphale at least had the presence of mind to hand Crowley his glasses before the lights went back on though.  
“You'll have a telephone consult in about a week, they'll book that at reception on your way out, as well as further scans if you’re not going back to your usual practise. Let me just clean the gel off and you’re free to go.” The Doctor grinned at their faces, “You both alright?”  
“More than.” Aziraphale stammered, “Thank you so much, Doctor.”

*

They were out the room before they knew it. Crowley leaned back in the wheelchair, meeting his partner’s eye.  
“Angel…”  
“Dear…” Aziraphale let go of the chair briefly and turned it to face him, hands flapping and voice shaky, “I haven't felt like that since I saw Frederick.”  
Crowley pushed himself to stand and hold the angel, squeezing him tight, “Want all the pictures.”  
“We shall have all the pictures and - and show the children too!” He laughed. 

*

The cottage practically buzzed with excitement as the scans were handed around later. Newt turned the print he'd been given around several times trying to make sense of it, before Aziraphale gently pointed out a hand.  
“Ah! So it is. For some reason I was looking for a face.”  
“Jennet has that picture, it will reach us soon I'm sure.” The angel beamed, “It's a new experience for all of us.”  
“I’m just glad they used old fashioned print. I probably would have wiped an email or something.” Newt dodged the issue of it being all new to him too, and waited for Jennet before saying anything more. Aziraphale meanwhile had moved his attention to Freddie, “Frederick dear, please don’t bend them.”  
“Makin’ flipbook Daddy.”  
“Are those the copies at least?”  
“Mmhm, Dada said I could.”  
“Well, if your father said…” The angel turned his attention to Crowley, who was sprawled on the sofa with his legs up. Corin and Ceres were in his lap. He edged closer.  
“I wanna boop snoots!” Ceres was insisting, “Bet they girls, Dada. Bet you make pretty girls.”  
Corin meanwhile was staring at one picture, his face crumpling as though he were about to cry. Crowley nuzzled his temple, “What’s wrong son?”  
“They adorable!” The boy whimpered.  
“Only as much as you, an’ no more.” He whispered.  
“Are you alright there, dear?” Aziraphale called.  
“Fine, fine.” Crowley waved dismissively, “Just somebody in need of a bit more reassurance.”  
“Ah.” Aziraphale managed to sneak onto the sofa next to his husband, “Sorry Corin, you do rather take after me.”  
“’M not baby anymore.” The boy sniffled.  
“You’re my baby…” He chuckled, “I mean, yes you’re one of our babies, but you’re my baby.”  
“Sent the downloaded files to the kids.” Crowley managed. Aziraphale gazed at him a moment, realising how tired he looked despite everything.  
“I’ll ask Ana if they’re alright if you slip out.” He murmured. 

*

It was a couple of hours before Aziraphale was free again to see to his partner. The visitors had gone home, the children were fed and in front of the television, and the angel had Crowley’s medicine and a couple of ginger biscuits on a tray.  
The demon was stretched out on his front, snoring into his pillow. Aziraphale put the tray on the side table, and stroked his husband’s shoulder lightly, “Dear? Time for tea.”  
“Mmph.” The demon mumbled, raised his fully snake-like eyes to the tray, and groaned.  
“I know…” the angel soothed, “I’m sorry. The leaflet inside the box did say it may take a few days for the medication to work though… I wanted to err on the side of caution.”  
“Good plan.”  
“Of course it is, dear.” He rolled his husband over gently so he could hold the tablets and cup of water, “How are you feeling?”  
“Whole lot of knackered.”  
“I’ll be up once the children are in bed.” He waited for the demon to take his medicine, and handed him a biscuit, “Well I mean, I'll be here... obviously I'll have to come up to get them to bed."  
"No panicking, go on." The demon snorted. Aziraphale kissed his forehead, “See you in about half an hour then.”  
“Whatever shall I do until then?” Crowley chuckled. Once Aziraphale had left with a little smile at the reassuring behaviour, he de-snaked his eyes, looked at the ginger biscuit, sniffed it, and sighed.  
“Urg… here goes nothing then.”


End file.
